The Blue Box that Never Was: Reckoning
by Bighead98
Summary: Organization XIII has been defeated, but their story has not ended. Finding himself in a unique position, Xenmas allows the fragments of Organization XIII to merge with the remains of another, creating new set of beings all together. How will things go with these new beings emerging not as destroyers… but each as a Doctor?
1. Not Quite Gone

**Hey, hey, hey people! How's it going? Now, what I'm about to begin is something so epic, so awesome, SO unexpected that you will possibly crap your pants at what I'm attempting. **

**Enter The Blue Box that Never Was series, Part 1, Reckoning. This is what if each member of Organization XIII became an incarnation of the Doctor? Each version having the power they had in their previous life or whatever you wanna call it. **

**Now, I had this thought for awhile. A thought that some may deem impossible and undo able to do. So, I was like, 'What the hell!' let's see how far I can go with this. The thought I had? Well, it was what if, the time Xemnas was defeated by Sora and Riku, he met up with the Other, one of the founding fathers of the Timelords instead of returning to the void? (A.K.A Master Xehanort but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Hopefully soon.) **

**Now, I've asked many people to do this idea, but sometimes you've gotta do things yourself…anywho, on to the story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts nor Doctor Who. If I did, Roxas would have his own would have his own game, Matt Smith would still be the Doctor, and Eleven and Clara would have SO made out in the Christmas Special under a mistletoe or at least they would have kissed before 11 regenerated, leaving his cool bow-tie in Clara's hands. **

**Story Time! **

* * *

Pain.

White hot, _literally_ piercing pain is all the Xemnas could feel now as the light of the Keyblade went through his non-existent being while staring across the vastness of chaos itself. The realm in which would be known as the final resting place of the last surviving member of the accursed society, Organization Thirteen.

It was funny in a weird way, really. If the universe was more willing and merciful, the Superior could have laughed. He, the one who ranked first among the thirteen who survived having their Heart stolen and have lived off of sheer Willpower, was the last to be slain by the Keyblade heroes. Well, that's what you get for messing with countless beings in the universal worlds in order to have your goals succeed.

'Probably', He muses to himself as he feels himself shatter and break apart, the pain becoming too much, the emotions going wild without abandon.

What was the goal you may ask? Why, getting their hearts back of course, what else?

It may sound a bit ridiculous, but it was the truth after all. The Heart, along with the Body and Soul, was the only component missing for completing a being. A true being that wasn't a pitiful shadow of who they were in their past life. But those hearts were stolen, heartlessly stolen by the true embodiment of Darkness, Heartless that mindlessly collected hearts like the essential piece was one of many plates in a collection.

But that was far from the end like the Thirteenth Order. No, in fact one could say it was the beginning of a whole new life—albeit, an empty one. When a strong heart is taken captive by a Heartless, something amazing would make itself appear. The Will and Body would still be intact from the attack, desperate to make the being like it was before. But there would be neither light nor darkness to assist them. Instead, the power of Nothingness would make itself known during the process. With this addition, the process gave birth to something that shouldn't have happened in the first place. A truly unique creature like no other that the universe itself could not comprehend.

A Nobody.

They were beings that belonged neither to the realm of Light or the realm of Darkness. This was due to the fact that they were REJECTED from said realms for no longer having hearts, thus lacking each element that made a person, well, a person. Therefore, they were thrust into the realm of the In-Between.

Oh, but those specimens were nothing—no pun intended—to their superiors. Yes, there were thirteen (And vague images of a fourteenth?), including Xemnas himself of course, who proudly bore the sigil. Thirteen who stood among all lesser nobodies, as they were greater and much stronger in their recreation. They came together as Organization XIII in order to rightfully reclaim the hearts that were cruelly stolen.

Unfortunately, the universe didn't seem to agree with what they thought was a noble goal.

No, the universe rejected their non-existence. They didn't exist. They weren'tsupposed to exist. Yet here they were, emotionlessly frolicking about the universe as beings of nothing. Bending its rules with their very presence because of what they were lacking.

The rejects.

Some would say with caution.

Abominations.

Some would say with stupidity and rashness.

Freaks of nature that belonged nowhere, yet went everywhere through space. The universe could not tolerate such creations and their criminal doings; twisting its rules with just with a Body and Soul.

So it sent its champion after them. Sora, the Keyblade's Chosen one and his alli—no, friends to slay them. To destroy these creatures that dared to walk and do what they pleased in it's domain. One by one, each one of these things would be slain, sent back to the Void as it is where they came from in the first place.

Xemnas saw this attack from the beginning of course. He knew he and his comrades would not be allowed to exist in this universe do to their unsightly existence. It was because of this melancholic foresight that Xemnas began to hatch another plan to thwart the harshness of the universe.

If that was the case, then why not make a new one?

Yes, the Superior of the In-Between used his Organization in order to obtain this power. Using the rage of the Keyblade(s) that XIII wielded, in many uncountable worlds, the corrupted hearts were released from their ensnaring traps of darkness. One by one, they would be weaved into the source of all hearts where untold, ultimate power that could be matched.

Should he have obtained this power, Xemnas would have ascended. He would have become beyond that of a Nobody, beyond that as a human, a god, and all planes of reality. He would have been above existence itself and he would have been simply a creature that could rival the existence of the universe itself. With that power, the could-have-been god would have destroyed this universe. Yes, rebuild from Nothing itself and remake it into his own image. This rebuilt new reality where the Heart would not matter could have been created. It would have been a simple, trivial piece in a universe full of beings that did not heed such an unneeded part and would simply and trulyexist. A true paradise for Nobodies…

But whom was he kidding? Did he actually think he could possibly defeat the most powerful being in the universe even with Kingdom Hearts? Like his allies, he's been slain in battle by Sora, whose friends strengthened his drive to protect this universe.

His heart overcame the willpower of each member of Organization XIII.

'The heart…' Thought the Superior as his entire existence began to fade away, back to the realm of nothing.

Maybe…Sora was right. There was more to living than anger and hate. Emotion is a power in many ways, more than Xemnas wanted to count truthfully. Yet, it was like that wasn't it? It was too complex to be understood. But, it isn't very hard to understand either, really. The heart is immeasurably powerful. It is durable. To put it simple, it is strong. That is all one needed to know.

Amber eyes widened as Xemnas gasped at being erased. He stretched his whole arm into the emptiness before him, as if to grasped the rest of his being that hasn't already disappeared, but he knew it was far too late to stay. His time was up. But maybe…this truly wouldn't be the end. After all, Nothingness was eternal.

Black tendrils evaporated from the last member of the Thirteenth Order, signifying it was time to go. His body began to separate along with each black string. This was it. Soon enough, there was no more tendrils to be erased, leaving the realm of Chaos with just a whisper in its wake.

But, as destiny would have it, the story of the nonexistent thirteenth would not end this day, or for the next few centuries in fact…

* * *

A blistering migraine attacked Xemnas like a train as soon as he regained his supposed-to-be-gone consciousness. Opening his blurry eyes to assess the situation, the Nobody felt something solid beneath his very much corporeal form. This sudden feeling allowed the tall man to stand up in place and regain his bearings.

After the blurriness had subsided, the silver-haired man saw in front of him what he had expected since being defeated; complete and total Nothingness, its blackness covering the entire area.

But there was one problem…if he's in Nothingness, then what in the name of Kingdom Hearts was he standing on? Shouldn't a being such as himself be floating in the emptiness? Better yet, still have his body intact? Questions ran through his mind, and in his sudden onslaught of what could have been anxiety at the unforeseen episode, he ran a gloved hand in his hair. Briefly, he wondered what it would be like to tear himself apart to keep himself from needlessly living. However, this thinking stopped as he shook his head from those thoughts. The universe chose him to live. Therefore, he was chosen to continue with his quest.

The former Superior decided to look down to the possible platform he was standing on, seeing it could be very thing that could be keeping his essence in check and could give him a few answers that he really needed at the moment.

For the first time in a long time, Xemnas could not suppress a gasp of shock and awe.

From what he was seeing right now, the former apprentice of Ansem was standing exactly on what seemed like a picture of a police box from the year… 1963? The box had the bluest shade of blue one—almost like the midnight before dawn and the hue of dusk approaching—could ever witness, the background being the perpetual night sky, counting the stars–each one representing a world—twinkling overhead. The picture itself seemed to have a cathedral-esque look to it…very similar to when one was present within one of those...

Seeing as he was standing on the central picture of this cathedral-like platform, Xemnas craned his neck around to see if his conclusion was correct. Unsurprisingly, he was correct about the situation at hand. But what he didn't expect that what surrounded him and the police box were images; portraits to be exact. These gorgeous paintings—if he could recall beauty—were of Organization XIII, including himself. Xemnas looked about with a calm grace and found himself in the outer ring of the pillar he was standing on, each with an inner ring that showed the members' corresponding number on it in black and white.

"This…is unexpected." Concluded Xemnas, his silver eye-brows squinting the very slightest in curiosity and wonder, but it was not enough to warrant an actual hue of the emotion that he could have been feeling. It was official: Xemnas was in what one would call a Deep Dive, or a Dive In Heart if you would prefer.

Now, in order to be in this state, one must be have an extremely strong heart, one that was worthy of wielding the Keyblade. But there was a problem with that statement though: Xemnas didn't have a heart in no way what so ever, only pitiful shadows of emotions were all that was left in him really.

Was it possible…that this was someone else's heart?

As Xemnas began to muse the sudden turn of events, a low voice began to ring out through the darkness.

_Well, isn't this an interesting turn of events_

The whole body of the Superior In-Between twisted around at the sound of that ominous voice. What was that just now? Had he imagined the voice due to the unnatural emptiness in this Dive in Heart held? That was plausible, yet Xemnas knew this kind of thing was not imaginary. And if this wasn't imaginary, that could mean that this person's heart could wield a blade…a keyblade.

_I can assure good sir that this isn't your imagination playing games with you_

The voice seemed to be enjoying the black coat man's confusion on his face, chuckling as the object of his amusement scanned the darkness around. For once, a hint of what could have been fear filled the Superior's once heart.

"Who are you? Show yourself this instant!" Commanded the greater Nobody, his voice echoing across the nonexistent landscape. Somehow though, the demand seemed to have thrown the voice into full-blown laughter.

Unfortunately for the unseen voice, Xemnas did NOT like to be laughed at.

At all.

Flames of faux-anger that hadn't been stroked and ignited in so very long began to rekindle at the voice's amusement. With a flash of electricity, the leader of Organization Thirteen's crimson ethereal blades exploded from his palms. This caused the mysterious voice's laughter let out a gasp. A smirk darkened Xemnas' face; the gasp was like music to his ears. However, the smirk disappeared because the next thing that this mysterious foe would do would cause a nonexistent vein in his head start to throb.

_What an interesting power! Just sort of creature are you?_

Instead of fear and respect for the show of power Xemnas usually got, the ominous voice seemed to be in a state of wonder and awe, like the Nobody was some kind of science experiment that went well. There was also the fact that the voice began to sound a lot less, well…ominous.

"Right…" Drawled Xemnas, not quite knowing where to go with this next since intimidation didn't seem to work on this creature. In a moment of sheer recklessness or whatever worked in his nonexistent heart, Xemnas began to let loose information. "Well if you must know strange one, I am a Nobody, a creature of the Void." He answered. The orange-eyed man honestly didn't know why he let out that piece of information. Possibly because he saw no harm in doing so.

_Nobody?_

The greater Nobody sighed as if expecting this, dismissing his blades due to the fact that the voice didn't sound very threatening or mysterious as before. In fact, there was a sense of childish amusement and longing. It was as if the male's voice—was it a male voice?—had encountered something so interesting and so beautiful…he wanted to know more, he wanted to see more. Yes, Xemnas knew that feeling well, the ability to manipulate, to observe. Yes, something told him that this voice, this annoying voice, was something like a scientist. Well, two could play at that game.

So Xemnas began to explain the crazy, fantastical part of the universe in which he resided in. Heartless, the embodiment of true Darkness, the Nobodies, his kin, what he planned to do with Kingdom Hearts, and a bunch of technicalities. It goes without saying that this spur of the moment lecture was given in his monotone voice, the infamous tone that caused most worlds to want to strangle him to death. But hey, that's the way he rolled right?

Xemnas finished the mini history, and waited for the voice to respond. Strangely enough, the voice remained quiet for a few moments, creating an uncomfortable, jarring silence as the last few syllables of Xemnas' speech faded away. It was disturbing to hear this kind of silence from the enigmatic voice, but it was an understandable silence. The being was probably processing the information in his mind or something. One couldn't blame the being though, considering the very unconventional life that Xemnas lived.

When the voice finally spoke once more, it no longer possessed the mysterious aura it began with.

_This is... quite disturbing news._

In fact, if Xemnas were to analyze the tone of voice further, he might have heard that the voice had a dazed quality about it.

The voice had spoken slowly, sounding as if it was coming in terms with reality for the first time but continued.

_As one of the first Time Lords, I have been granted all knowledge of everything. All that ever was in the Universe, all that ever will be, and yet... and yet I have never come across a—what did you call it?_

"A Keyblade." Xemnas answered, insipid dullness coating his tone. His blasé attitude towards the matter betrayed his cold, vice-like interest towards the voice. Here, this was a thing; a being that could be of use to him…But how? What could he do that could be beneficial for the disgraced leader? However, the disembodied was already leaning towards curiosity and if years of observing creatures with hearts and minds, Xemnas knew that trust and affection were to arrive after. IF and only if he dealt the right hand would that happen.

The Nobody's calculating thoughts were jarred when the voice spoke again. Only this time, the voice began to speak in a frustrated tone, as if trying hard to remember something and realizing that the information could not be retrieved. Xemnas listened to the pitches of how the voice accented and pitched the words haphazardly in speech. Oddly enough, even though there was no Body to be seen, the once scientist could feel the Mind and Heart interacting and producing the spoken language.

The once scientist part of himself seemed to awaken and stretch languidly in his mind, gaining energy from the rising adrenaline at the prospect of information; viewed in an academic manner, this whole experience was fascinating…

_Yes, yes, a Keyblade. Nor have I ever heard of your kind, the Nobodies. Then again, this could all be explained in the legends of the Time of Dawn. I was never much of a fan of myths..._

The voice trailed off as if the owner had become lost in thought. One part of the voice's response had caught the interest of Xemnas. A part of his scientific, analytical sense of self seemed to latch onto that iota of given information. His mind consumed it like a snake swallowing his prey. Almost immediately, a jumble of thoughts, plans, and ideas swarmed to the forefront of his consciousness.

But let it be known, he uttered one thoughtful and open-ended phrase.

"Time... Lord?"

_Ah, I do apologise; I forgot I hadn't introduced myself. I have gone by many names in my time, but it's been so long since I used them that... well, I've forgotten most of them._

"Forgotten your NAME?" Xemnas said, raising his eyebrow in amusment. Well, as close to amusement as one such as himself can get.

_It happens._

The voice replied nonchalantly.

_In any case, I remember who I was more than I remember my name, and is that not the most important thing to remember?_

"Who were you then?"

_A long time ago, I came to a distant world known as Gallifrey, the voice began to explain. It was a strained world, split by divisions of perspective between the old and the new, but the leader of the new faction, a man known as Rassilon, and his chief scientist, Peylix- known as Omega as a result of a jealous teacher- had such potential..._

The voice sounded wistful as it paused for a moment before it continued.

_I offered my services in helping them to create their world, providing my expertise in refining Omega's process and helping Rassilon create some of the things he needed; I even helped their race find a way around the curse of sterility imposed on them by Rassilon's predecessor, through technology that literally wove new beings into life without the need for others to provide anything more than the original samples for each family._

"So your people couldn't reproduce sexually?" Xemnas questioned. That would explain why the voice needed samples; to create life artificially for future generations of his kind.

However, the voice continued grimly, ignoring the interruption.

_It all went wrong when Omega set out on his mission to collect a power source for Rassilon's plan, collapsing a star to create a black hole that we could harness. His efforts succeeded, but Omega himself was lost, and it was never established in the aftermath if he was lost through an accident or deliberate sabotage..._

"Rassilon?" Xemnas deduced.

_Quite possibly. With Omega gone, and my own role more behind-the-scenes than his own, Rassilon began to enforce his authority, reshaping our society to suit his vision. His plans were ambitious, but as he became more and more determined to put them into action before his own demise, he resorted to increasingly questionable measures to achieve them, even threatening my own family if I should attempt to speak out against him; as far as he was concerned, he knew what was right, and that was that._

Ah yes, blackmail. A dirty trick that has its uses whether or not some may admit. Yep, some REAL good memories with that, "And your response was?"

_I resolved to leave this world and return to a simpler time; the present was too complicated for me, but if I could escape my current role and return to the wider field as a piece rather than a player... I would sacrifice the power I held, but what use is power without freedom? With conventional departure, I said goodbye to the last of my family, and threw myself into the Looms, proclaiming my defiance of the world that Rassilon sought to build..._

"And then you ended up here with me." Xemnas finished, not questioning what these Looms are, seeing how they are irrelevant at the moment.

_It seems like it. Though that does beg the question: what happens now?_

Right…there was that.

Xemnas lifted a hand to rub his chin in thought. What would happen now? By the sound of things, the voice, this Time Lord, should be reconstructing himself, reforming into a new lifetime. But, if that was the case, then why was he here with a fallen being such as Xemnas himself, bodiless and omnipresent?

However, the next thing the voice would say would completely 'shock' the former Superior.

_Hmmm, perhaps we can help each other out?_

Now, Xemnas was the type of man who was completely calm and dull to most situations. Even in his previous life as Xehanort, reactions were stoic as hell to be blunt. However, due to already dying and being place in this Deep Dive, the silver haired man nearly blanched at the suggestion. Thankfully, due to many years of self-restraint, he was able to keep himself under control.

"Excuse me?" he replied, quickly shaking off his previous reaction.

_As I said, we can possibly benefit from each other in this situation we seem to have found ourselves in. At the moment, I am a bit…stuck in place and don't seem to know my way out of here, I'd say you're in a similar spot, no?_

Damn…he was right. In neither of his two lives has Xemnas gotten into a Dive In Heart, Thus, has no idea in hell where to go now.

That didn't mean he would trust this voice.

Crossing his hands behind his back as if he was talking to one of his colleagues on a very important issue, Xemnas spoke, his deep voice echoing through the black space. "While you seem to have been honest so far, there's the issue of what would happen if I say yes to your… suggestion."

_Why, I will combine the both of us, what else?_

"Come again?"

The disembodied Timelord chuckled before answering the question.

At this moment, right now, I feel both our essences reaching out to each, like magnets of opposite sides of the pole. Which would mostly explain the creation of that station you're on. Anyways, the only thing that seems to be standing in the way of these two magnets are, well, you.

"Me?"

_Quite so. Now, if you will allow me to connect our essences, then we shall become one. Everything that makes me me will become you, and everything that makes you you will become me. But, allow me to warn you first: I cannot guarantee either of us will maintain our memories. The fusion process will most likely erase both of our past lives in order to make room for the united one that will occur. But seeing how this is our only way out of this dark void for any of us, we don't have much of a choice; eternity of nothingness is hardly an improvement over the life I left behind, and I doubt you feel any differently. Now, what do you say?_

Former Number I of Organization XIII stood quiet as he complimented over the severity of the decision he was making. Could he really do it? Erase all victorious and defeats that occurred in his past two lifetimes and replace them with a new existence that'll take place in god-know-where?

In addition to that, there was this certain itch in the back of his head that was telling him something. Something that could quite possibly change the face of the universe forever…

Bah! Like none of that mattered at this point. That memory lost within his mind couldn't possibly be that important if he didn't remember what it was. Anything to get out of returning to the void.

Besides… this was his chance to finally become a new being- not only that, but to become a complete being. Plus, the memories of his past two lives won't worth remembering, not now at this point.

Lifting his head up (and sticking his chin out like a business sort of man) he made his decision, "Alright. I shall agree with these terms, seeing how really this could quite possibly be my only chance to return to the realm of the living once more and become whole once more. Do what you must."

_Excellent!_

This voice exclaimed enthusiastically, almost sounding giddy at what's about occur.

_Let's get started then! Now, this may tickle a bit…_

Before he knew it, Xemnas' world body erupted from within.

Like every single cell within was exploding and reforming at the same time. Unlike forming into a Nobody, where one reforms into what they were before, this process seemed to be forcibly changing what he was now and turning into something else, like-like dying yet not at once.

The pain was really taking its toll, forcing him on one knee as something truly strange occurred. Bright golden light began to evaporate from his skin, pulsing with the energy of the Children of Gallifrey. With this light, came the memories of his past, disappearing like breathe on a mirror, piece by piece.

Despite the pain though…he felt them.

Ah yes, he felt their presences coming in with him, softly combining with him and overlaying his essence with theirs. Ah yes, these twelve forces were becoming one with him. Merging and fusing like missing pieces of a puzzle that was slowly to becoming whole.

It seems that the Thirteen Order's story isn't done yet.

Yes…maybe this time they would become the universes saviors instead of being its harbingers of the end. After all, going _against _it only ensured their ends. Deaths to those who belonged no where as they weren't truly anywhere in the first place.

But now since they'd all be complete... perhaps they could actually do some good? Fix others instead of wandering around for their own (justified) needs? Ah yes, one could imagine a good look with that kind of image.

After all, this time they would be one better being instead of separate banes of the universe. For this time they would be a protector of all. An wiseman, a healer, a medic…

_A Doctor_.

The next thing he felt was a rush of cold air...

* * *

**Here you go! The first chapter! Any questions? P.M. me! Also, PLEASE leave a review if yea don't mind. Also, I will NOT be updating this story until like May at the latest hopefully, since I have to work on school since, after all, it'll decide what I'll be in life and all. Don't worry, you won't regret waiting for so long cuz' this story is going to go beyond epic! **

**Stay gold.**


	2. The Day It Starts

**Hello! Back for another chapter I see! Good to know! Anywho, now we shall be entering the younger days of our protaganist before he grows up and steals the TARDIS along with his grandaughter. Now, most of this chapter will be based off a story Lady Chal made herself. Thanks for the insperation! **

**Speaking of thank you, shout to Kotei no Seiryuu and KitsuneDragon for allowing me to use a paragraph from a chapter of a collab they did for their intro. Thank you very much gentlemen. **

**On with the story now!  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not, what so ever, own Kingdom Hearts nor Doctor Who. If I did, Ten would not have been such a bitch when he fought the Master and Davros. Really, am I the only one who expected much more from him during those two story lines?  
**

* * *

**(Insert Music: Doctor Who-****This is Gallifrey: Our Childhood, Our Home**_**)**_

_There are many ways, in which beings, divine and mortal alike, have thought the creation of the universe came about. In the current world that exists today there is a popular theory that came to be known as the Big Bang. A forceful collision of energies that suddenly appeared and exploded outwards, expanding at a rapid rate. The Law of Conservation of Energy states that energy neither be created nor destroyed, it can only move from one form to another. It was then said that these energies converted themselves into the forms we all know today_

_Now, deep within the vast emptiness of space laid countless worlds that orbited harmlessly within the cosmos, each representing a star in the night sky. No matter how big or small their respective land may be, each planet had their own story that was unique to them and them alone._

_However, there was on world that stood tall above all others._

* * *

Here within the constellation of Kasterborous, lays a planet far beyond any other seen in history. In a league of its own, the world's superiority was known throughout all known galaxies and far. It's very was name e_mbedded and entwined within the vastness of time itself for all of eternity. _

_Gallifrey__._

Yes, that was the name of the planet that would live on forever throughout the astronomical existence of reality. Within the Shining World of the Seven Systems, on the Continent of Wild Endeavour, in the Mountains of Solace and Solitude, where the purest of snow fell down, was the Citadel of the Time Lords, oldest and most powerful race in the universe.

These Lords of Time were a bunch that towered over all other life forms in the universe. These beings watched over Time and Space itself, seeing its flow and that is, was, will be, can be and can't be…that was how these Time Lords were able to guard the timelines that kept the universe in check. They made it their long life to preserve these timelines and prevent devastating paradoxes that could end all life as we know it.

Now, at the age of eight, each Time Lord child (or rather, a Time tot) are shown the way to a place in order to learn the ways of a true Time Lord. This is where these next generation Lords of Time were taken to the Academy. Here, one would say, is where one's life one Gallifrey would truly begin.

It is the place where a Time tot learns everything he/she needs to learn in order to become a full-fledged Time Lord/Lady full in his/her power. The Academy is the place where a Gallifreyan child comes for knowledge that gave made the Time Lord race superior to all others. After all, knowledge _was _power as the saying went and in this case, these guys could be considered the ones on steroids.

What? It was true wasn't it?

Now, these Time tots were very eagered to obtain this knowledge and power. From their respective house, each child came to the Academy to be educated in these ways. After all, who else in the universe would have the opportunity to be blessed with the knowledge _time _itself? And each kid was both determined and motivated to make sure they were educated in their people's culture no matter what.

_BIONK! _

Some less than others…

"Huh? Wha…?" Mumbled an eight year old boy that has half-awakened from his sleep due to a white chalk bouncing off his head. His silver bangs hanging over and hiding his half-opened amber eyes.

Yeah, seriously. The kid has silver hair of all things, one of the many…let's say _unique _features of this boy.

"Theta Sigma!" Shouted the offender otherwise known as Borusa, "Sleeping again in class! Pay attention to the lesson like everyone else and stop dosing off."

"But I already know this stuff professor Borusa." He whined, lifting his head up from his comfy spot. And just when his dreams were getting good too…

Said instructor felt his eye twitch at that claim, "Well then, if you actually think you're so well in-depth with this lesson, why don't you explain just how a TARDIS is powered using Time Lord engineering to the class, hm?"

Groaning because he knew he had no choice but to except the challenge, Theta stood up from his seat and began his own half-baked lecture of a TARDIS' power source, or at least half-baked to a full grown Time Lords.

"A TARDIS, which stands for Time And Relative Dimension In Space, is powered by a method created by Omega, one of our civilization's founders. After ripping an exploding star –turned- black hole from its orbit, it is then suspended in time in a permanent state of decay." He finished almost mechanically, much to his teacher's ire.

"Correct." Borusa gritted through his teeth.

Smirking victoriously, Theta sat back down in his seat lazily just as the teacher turned back to the lesson board with a fresh, new white chalk, using it to write more notes for his teacher, "As I was saying before I was so rudely _distracted_, the Time Vortex is easily accessed by fully matured Gallifreyans. This is the most common way we are able to access the rest of the universe. Using Time Lord science, we are ab-"

At this point, Theta once again felt nap time calling his name. His consciousness slowly drifting back into the peaceful blackness of his dreams…

A kick in the shin is what jolts him back to the real world once again, yelping a low 'ow!' in order to avoid drawing attention to himself once more before rubbing his hurting limb and turning to its offender.

Light blue eyes stared right at its neighbor with amusement along with a flop of short brown hair on top before speaking. "You know Theta, if you kept this up the professor's hair is gonna fall off from all the stress your giving him."

"Oh come _on_ Koschei, we all know Borusa's hair is already falling apart with or without me in his life." He retorted, his eyes trailing towards the older Time Lord's thinning hairline from the back. After all, he has lived for more than millennia and was in his fourth body. Plus, the light shining down from the twin suns of the sky through the window reflecting from said teacher's scalp SO added to the piling up proof Theta was cumulating behind his back.

Koschei rolled his eyes, "That just means you're helping the process speed up."

His best friend shrugged, "Well you know me: I do what I can to help."

Before the brunette could make a snarky response, the ringing of a Cloister bell stopped the words from coming out of his mouth, its mind boggling melody echoing through the ears of Time Lords and Time tots alike through the whole dome covered building.

"Alright class, that's it for today. Remember what tomorrow is, so be sure to wear your ceremonial robes. After all…the next day WILL be the day everything starts for you and your personal journey as a Time Lord. Good day."

The way professor Borusa said that send shivers down Theta's spine as he took up his books in his still developing arms before stalking off into the time school's hallways, his thoughts carrying off into another world once more.

Tomorrow was the day his supposed 'destiny' was to be decided. In just one day his very fate would be sealed by looking into _his own future itself_. Tomorrow would be the day he and his fellow peers in the Academy would look into the Untempered Schism, or, for lack of better words, the time vortex.

_The Presentation Day._

Theta tightened his grip on his books at the very thought of doing such a thing at such a thing at this age. Of course, any eight year old would be frightened at the prospect of looking at the raw power of time itself any day; it was a natural feeling for any person really.

It wasn't even like that for him anyways. It was actually the pressure that his 'family', the House of Lungbarrow, was putting on him. Now THEY were stiffs at the highest order of all stiffness. These were Time Lords that held great pride for their chapel, refusing to let any other house surpass their own in any way. The House of Lungbarrow was filled with ambitious Time Lords/Ladies that wanted to use and show off their power in the highest caliber like which no other chapel was capable of doing and never will be able to.

To be short, they were REALLY a competitive lot.

That was real bad news for Theta since he wasn't really into that kind of stuff like his large, extended family. He didn't want to be any two-bit, factory made Lord of Time that was expected to up hold their people's _laws _and_ traditions_ and all that ridiculousness. He wanted to be his OWN kind of Time Lord that did what he (and only he) wanted, NOT what was expected from a member from the House of Lungbarrow.

And now his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and a bunch of other relatives were coming over to the Academy area to oversee his look into the Untempered Schism. Not that it was a practically bad thing since it was, after all, tradition here, overseeing the next generation's ceremony in order to sneak a peek on the house hold's very own future.

So why was there so much dread for the upcoming ritual?

Before Theta could even investigate this grim and dire feeling that was coming up from the pit of his stomach, he felt something wet and slimly crawl up into his left ear, causing the silver-haired boy to jump up in complete disgust, his amber eyes trailing towards the culprit, being none other than Koschei.

'_Of course, who else?_' Theta thought glumly before getting back into the situation at hand his best friend has caused, "Ew! Koschei, why do you keep doing this to me?!" He whined like, well, a little kid. Seriously, the guy REALLY was making a habit out of this. This was a real violation of his personal space!

"_Well_,maybe if you paid attention more often in the real world more often, you wouldn't have to deal with these kinds of things." He responded smugly, "So, what's going on in that hyperactive brain of yours this time?"

Theta sighed, feeling more tired than he actually was, "You of all people should already know what I'm bugging off about, considering the fact what tomorrow is."

Koschei frowned in understanding, "Right. The _great_ and_ important_ Day of Presentation, so what of it?"

"So what of it? EVERYTHING is what tomorrow."

The brunette rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get already, I've had enough of those lectures from all of my teachers, I don't need _you_ of all people telling me how big of a deal this thing is."

Theta raised a silver eye brow before responding, "And what is that supposed to mean."

"It means, why are you so concerned about this any way? This type of Time Lord tradition thing hasn't bothered you in the past, so why now? What could happen in this ceremony that would make so anxious?" Koschei questioned with true curiosity.

Theta rubbed his temple in annoyance at that question, which he considered bit stupid. How could he not be understanding this? "The reason I haven't been so _anxious _with those traditions is because none of them were connect to my OWN direct future itself. What happens tomorrow will decide what I'll become, something I'm not too keen on finding out so soon."

Koschei winkled his nose.

"_Ah_. Now that's understandable." He hummed, "So you're scared of understanding your own future, no?"

"WELL, if you want to dumb it down like that, then yes: I am afraid of seeing my future."

That statement earned him a punch to the arm, "I'm not dumbing down anything. I'm just relaying your own thoughts in a simplistic manner."

"Okay, okay, no need to be violent here. After all, we are going to be great and powerful _Lords of Time_ in the future." He said in a high-class official voice.

"That doesn't change the fact that it'll be YOUR future you'll see. Something that'll belong to you and you alone and nobody else. When else will you get this chance? You really shouldn't fear something that'll belong to you."

…Damn it, he was right (as always) about this. Maybe he should act a bit more humble towards this? Tomorrow _was _going to be an honor above all honors for any Gallifreyan really. It's looking into _time itself_, something that'll only happen once in his really _ridiculous_ long-life span.

Actually, now that he thought about it, ridiculous was an understatement.

The point still stood on the fact that he should maybe, for once, embrace this tradition unlike before. This was going to pertain to his days that have yet to come. Days that would decide what he'll be to in life and more importantly, who he'll be to the universe.

Theta sighed in recognition, "I suppose your right. After all, what's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

_Run…_

The single word filled and consumed him. It pumped through his two terrified hearts and powered his entire being as he tore down the long, linear streets of the Citadel.

_Run…_

The muscles of his short, eight year-old legs fairly screamed with the imperative even as they raced to heed it. They could not catch him. He would not let them. He didn't dare. If they caught him, they might make him look again, or tell them what he'd seen, and there was simply no power in all of eternity that could make him do _that_ again.

He was dimly aware of the tears streaking down his thin cheeks, blurring his vision, and of the stinging pain in his knees and palms where he'd fallen numerous times and scraped them. No matter. The pain was irrelevant. It was the fear and dread which must be heeded.

_Run…_

He could hear the thunder of footsteps behind him, and the sound fueled him, giving him an extra burst of terror and speed. His gaze darted left and right, looking for an exit to this long, high walled street, but there appeared to be none. He was on the verge of despair when he finally saw it. It was no more than a shadow really, just the faintest rectangular depression in the deep blue vines which scaled the wall to his left. He drew one last gasping breath and ducked into it, thinking only to hide himself in the ivy until they passed, but the alcove proved to be deeper than he'd originally thought and he found himself stumbling into it, through the ivy and through the wall itself.

He pressed himself tightly to the warm golden stones, his hearts pounding, his lungs shrieking for air as he struggled to hold his breath. The rush of the footsteps grew louder, echoing in the street outside, rising up over stone wall at his back and washing over him. He closed his eyes, praying desperately to any or all of the old gods who might listen. After a moment, the footsteps faded, receding down the street into silence.

His aching legs gave out then, and he collapsed onto the carpet of soft red grass, drawing his burning knees tightly to his small chest and letting the salt of his tears cleanse the abraded wounds where they showed through the torn holes in his clothing. Wrapping his arms about his legs, he hunched into a tight little ball, rocking and crying inconsolably.

And to think he had been looking forward to this day, he thought bitterly. Ushas had done it. Ushas had said that it would be wonderful, that it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen or experienced.

Ushas had lied.

Or worse, maybe she hadn't.

It was said that when one looked into the Untempered Schism, they saw whole of eternity from the unique perspective for which they were born to serve it. Some, like Ushas, were inspired by what they saw. Some ran away from the terrible destiny it foretold. Others went mad with the dark possibilities that it promised.

Well… he certainly didn't feel inspired. And madness? –Looking into that awful thing would be enough to drive anyone crazy. Only a truly insane mind would wish to look into it again. Just the thought of it was enough to shake him with a fresh wave of terror. Which left him with what? –Destiny, he thought glumly, that, and the indelible brand of cowardice.

He had seen it in their eyes. The stern disapproval etched into narrowed mouths of the Temple Acolytes as they had struggled to keep their hold on him, the disappointment writ large on his father's face as he watched the ceremony from the gallery. He had dishonored the House of Lungbarrow, or rather _he would_ dishonor the House of Lungbarrow. The truth revealed to him in that hellish portal was inevitable, no matter what twists and turns the course of time might take. The stinging shame of the High Priest's stern expressions was nothing compared to the future he had seen. The day was soon coming when his true name would be stricken their lips, never to be spoken again by anyone, not even himself. They would demand he use another name, the name he had seen for himself through the Untempered Schism, the name that Time itself had given him.

The terrible realization only made him cry the harder. He could not use that name… _those_ names. Different words, different shadings, but all the same meaning, all the same end.

_Oncoming Storm_

_Destroyer of Worlds_

_Killer of His Own Kind_

No, indeed, he could not use those names. He could not tell them what he had really seen. He pressed his forehead against his stinging knees, willing away the memory, denying its truth. He was no one. He was nameless. He could not go back. There was only one course left to him now.

_Run…_

This miserable thought combined with the almost electric touch of a hand upon his shoulder nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. He scrambled back, pressing himself tightly against the wall, his eyes dark and wide with fear and panic as he looked up into the face of the captor who held him so firmly in her grasp.

Not an Acolyte… not even a matron of the Academy… not anyone from the Academy at all. She was just a woman, old and serene, with smooth, pale skin, soft smiling lips, deep silver eyes and a stream of long, silken white hair that cascaded down her shoulders and disappeared into the folds of her impossibly white robe. The hand not clutching his shoulder held a basket of white flowers and a neat, sharp, silver shears.

She set the basket down upon the carpet of red grass and knelt before him, her ice colored eyes piercing his own amber.

"What is the matter, child?" She asked softly in voice that somehow sounded young and musical and belied her obvious age. "Why are you crying?"

He said nothing and her pale gaze swept over him in quick assessment, taking in his Academy hair cut and the torn ceremonial robes.

"Ah," she said delicately, a look of deep comprehension crossing her face. "Today was your Presentation Day."

His silence did not deter her as she reached down, took up his hand in hers and studied the scratched and bloodied knuckles. "I am guessing that it did not go as you had hoped."

He found himself shaking his head, even though he had not meant to give her even that much of a response. Still, there was something about her, something so pure and old and serene that he sensed it would be of no use to lie. There was something in those molten silver eyes that suggested she already knew everything that had ever happened or ever would.

"You looked into the Untempered Schism," she said, brushing silver sweat-soaked tendrils of hair back from his forehead. Again he nodded, his body trembling with the very memory.

"Fools," she said bitterly. "No one is meant to look into that bloody thing, not even a Time Lord full in his power. They are children playing with weapons they do not understand."

He looked at her in horrified amazement, for what she was saying was nothing less than blasphemy, punishable by death. "It is one of the most sacred rites of Rassilon!" he protested.

She arched one ebony brow, impossibly dark against the winter complexion of her skin. "Rassilon!" she snorted, and the name was filled with an intimate contempt. "Rassilon was the greatest fool of them all."

She rose to her feet in one swift movement, pulling him with her. Bending down, she picked up her basket in one hand and took his fingers firmly in the other. "Come, child," she said in a gentle tone that brooked no argument. "Let us see what we can find to soothe your bumps and scratches."

He hesitated, suddenly wary of this strange old woman and her knowing silver eyes. She cocked her head at him, her snowy tresses cascading about her shoulders. "Have you any better place to be?"

He shook his head and she pulled him with her. "Come on then," she said briskly, and led him down a neatly manicured path of silver Vespen trees and arched trellises dripping with white Jalara vines in full, rich blossom. Here and there, small clumps of Rostaria sprang from the thick red grass, a few small snowy buds peeking from under bright golden leaves. And those were only the familiar Gallifreyan plants that he could name. There were a thousand others in the lady's garden. Some tall and slender, some short and squat. Some were slim and graceful and delicate while others seemed a rough and ugly tangle of thorns. Their leaves and foliage were of all colors of the known galaxy, purples, and oranges, green, blue, lavender, yellow, brown, from the brightest quarine to deepest black, but it was the blossoms made them truly remarkable.

The path opened into a small round clearing with a white stone bench and table at its center. Seating himself upon the bench to which she guided him, he took a moment to gaze upon the wonder of it all.

"It's all white," he said, feeling a little stupid for stating the obvious.

She smiled faintly. "It is my chosen color."

She set her basket on the table and splashed some water from a tall crystal ewer into a small white bowl. Plucking a small selection of blossoms from the basket, she crushed them into the water, soaking the bruised petals in a sweet, tangy smelling infusion. She picked up his hand, selected a crushed bud from the bowl and used it to swab the tiny cuts and nicks across the backs of his fingers. He watched, mesmerized, as the bruised veins of the petals siphoned away the bloody water, turning the white blossom a spidery network of pink. Amazingly, the stinging pain of the cuts receded, replaced with a balmy sensation that was both warm and cool.

"Tell me," she said gently, turning his hand over to work upon his palm, "what did you see that terrified you so?"

He tried to suppress a shudder. "Time," he said hoarsely, "I saw Time."

She smiled faintly. "You saw a good deal more than that, I think. You saw your place in it." Reaching up, she stroked her fingers down his tearstained cheek, her mysterious silver eyes searching his with genuine curiosity. "Was it really so terrible?"

"Oh…" he whispered, his eyes widening into large, luminous pools. "Oh yes."

"It is good to fear Time," she said briskly. "Those who don't, tend to waste it." She dropped the bloodied blossom back into the bowl and smiled down at him with eyes that were not exactly comforting. "And those who are so foolish to think themselves masters of it are merely the masters of their own destruction."

He felt the breath still in his throat. _She knows…_ he thought desperately. _Somehow, she knows…_

"I can't go back there," he pleaded, his voice was trembling, his dark eyes hunted. "Please," he whispered, "please don't make me."

She shook her head slowly, something sad and rueful in her smile. "No boy," she agreed softly. "You have looked into the Untempered Schism. You have had a glimpse into the heart of Time itself. There is no going back now."

He suppressed a shudder at the thought. No, he couldn't bear it, couldn't bear the thought of that awful destiny he had seen.

"What do I do?" he asked, his voice sounding small even for his slim eight-year old frame.

The old woman sat down on the bench beside him and gazed out at the white garden with an expression of implacable serenity. "What do you want to do?"

_Run, _he thought desperately, but he did not say it. Instead, he simply shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly. "I just know I don't want to be..." he shuddered again "_him."_

She tilted her head thoughtfully. "You may not have much choice in that."

"Why not?" he demanded. "Isn't that what being a Time Lord is all about? Traveling around in space and time? Fixing the tangled and snarly bits? Making wrong things right again? What I saw…" he paused and drew a ragged, shuddery breath, "Surely _that_ can't be right."

The old woman sighed and stroked a gentle hand across his brow. "There is what is right," she said softly, "and then there is what is destined. You are young, my little Time Lord, but one day perhaps you will understand that the two are not necessarily the same."

She folded her hands in her lap, the slim tapered ivory fingers toying gently with the snow white folds of her gown as she regarded her secluded paradise for a moment. "It is true," she said at last, "that you can manipulate the timeline. You can move back and forth, make subtle adjustments here and there, but even a Galifreyan can not stop what must ultimately be. The Time Lords are guardians, not Gods. They can navigate time, they can sense the ebb and flow of it, even give it a nudge here or there to set it back upon its proper course. Time is one thing. Destiny is something else entirely."

"But I don't want that destiny," he said somberly.

She offered him a wry smile. "It wouldn't be destiny if you could choose it."

The old woman looked at him for a long moment, her strange silver eyes taking in his wretched expression, his hunched and miserable figure huddled beside her on the bench. After a moment she seemed to relent, and touched his cheek again, willing his amber, frightened eyes to meet her own pale gaze. "Take heart, boy, just because you cannot choose the destination does not mean you cannot choose the path which takes you there."

He looked at her in confusion, and she let her smile widen and gentle just a bit. "There is always a choice, young one," she murmured. "It is the choice you must make in here," she brushed her fingers against his temples, "and in here," she added, dropping her hands to rest upon the syncopated rhythm of his beating hearts. It isn't what you choose that matters, child. Your destiny is set. It is _why_ you choose that will matter in the end. It is the reasoning behind your decisions that will determine who you will become."

"But I don't want to become _him._" He said fiercely.

She was silent a moment as she studied him intently. Then, with a small sigh, she reached down and took his hand. "When you looked into the portal," she said softly. "Who did you see?"

He shuddered again at the memory.

_The Oncoming Storm._

_The Destroyer of Worlds._

_The Killer of His Own Kind._

He shook his head fiercely pushing back the memories that thundered in his head, memories of things yet to come.

She squeezed his hands hard, as if reading his mind. "Who did you see?" she demanded.

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "I –I don't know," he stammered.

She smiled faintly, but there was a hard, grim edge to it. "That's right," she said firmly. "You _don't_ know. You only saw _what_ you must become, not _who_. You must remember there is a difference."

He stared at her in bleary eyed confusion. "What?"

She shook her head firmly. "No, my dear one, _Who."_

There was something in her tone, the way she said it, that seemed to reverberate within him, to the center of his very being. He felt a small shiver course through his body as he stared into her strange silver eyes. There was an uncanny gleam within them, pure, shining, and brilliant white, as white as the heart of Time itself. He felt a sudden, electric chill skitter across his synapses at the realization, felt a thin slice of true terror course through him that made his earlier fear seem small and insignificant. He paused for a moment, taking it all in: the white blossoms of the garden, the pristine walkways of white stone, the bench upon which he sat, the basin with which she had bathes his scratches… white… all of it white. He looked at the woman with her flowing white robes, her shining white hair, pale skin, silver eyes, and felt his mouth go dry.

"Who," he asked at last, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper, "_Who_ are _you?"_

Her only response was a serene smile. "A friend," she said simply, "one who has seen much, one who will see much more before I cease."

He swallowed hard, digesting her cryptic answer. "Then you are not… then you are not an Eternal?"

She smiled again, but this time there was a wry edge to it. "The Multiverse is made of things so old and large that they are beyond the power of even a Time Lord to comprehend, but nothing is eternal child, not even Time itself."

She stroked his brow with a gentle hand and he felt his eyes grow heavy, his body weary, his racing mind slow to a dreamy lull.

"You are weary, young one," she said in soothing tones. "You should rest now. When you wake, all will be as it is meant to."

He stifled a yawn as the heaviness of limbs and mind seemed to consume him. The smooth white stone of the bench seemed so inviting, and he found himself leaning, swaying, and slowly toppling onto its sun-warmed expanse. Even so, a single thought, a small spike of fear and worry managed to slice its way through the gauzy web of exhaustion that now wrapped itself around him.

"But what will I tell them?" He murmured, fighting the drowsiness that seemed to consume him.

"Tell them what?" She asked gently, stroking his hair, caressing his cheek, soothing him inexorably towards slumber.

"They will want to know," he mumbled sleepily. "—Want to know what I saw. …Can't tell them. Can't tell them _that._"

"Then don't," she said simply.

"But they will want to know," he protested. "They will want to know what I am called, they will insist. The Presentation is the time of calling. I have to tell them."

He sensed, more than saw her nod. His eyes were so heavy now he could hardly keep them open.

"I see," she said sagely, and then paused, "but I think, perhaps, that they may not, and if that is the case…"

She seemed to think for a moment, in the manner of someone trying to distill a complex issue to a simple explanation –which, he supposed, she was.

"They liken the Presentation to a naming ceremony, and in a way it is, but it also is not. There is your calling, and then there is what you are called. You saw your destiny little one, enough to know that you will have many names, but the one that is truly yours is one that shall not be spoken."

In spite of his sleepiness, his eyes opened and widened at this. How could she know that? How could she possibly know, unless… But the thought drifted away, as ephemeral as the gentle breeze blowing through the garden and her soft voice continued.

"You already know what you would be called," she said softly, "and that can not be changed. But what is your calling child? Think not of the things to come, they are merely events. Ask yourself what is in your hearts? What is in your soul? What is it that you could do if you would?"

"I would stop it," he said fiercely, struggling towards wakefulness yet failing, aware that his child's voice was somehow different, determined, strong. "I would keep it from happening. I would fix what is broken. I would heal what is hurt. I would right what is wrong. I would _stop it."_

She regarded him for a long moment. "Yes," she said at last, "I believe you will." She stroked his brow again, soothing, serene. "And that is the other half of your destiny Child; that is what you are meant to do."

He felt himself falling, drifting ever so steadily into sleep, but just before oblivion took him he felt her hands touch him, stroking his head, his cheek, resting for just a moment between the twin beats of his hearts. "When they ask you for your calling, Child, tell them I call you _Doctor."_

Her voice faded as his consciousness disappeared into blackness. The wind stirred softly in the silver Vespen trees, a vagrant breeze stirred the Jalara vines, sending a small shower of white petals down upon the stone bench where the boy slept, the bit of coral still clutched tightly in his hand. That was how the Temple Acolytes found him, several hours later when someone finally thought to look in the sacred garden of the Eternals.

He awoke a full day later in his own bed feeling nothing vague sense of fear and dread and fuzzy memory of a garden and a dream he could not quite remember. Of the Presentation itself he could recall nothing at all, but there was one thing of which he was certain, one thing for which he was truly grateful:

No one had asked his name.

* * *

**Here you go! Hopefully I've done good in this chapter. Now, I know you guys want to see Nothing using Xemnas!Doctor already but remember, back stories are very important to a person's character in fiction. Plus, I DO have to explain the reasons why and how the Doctor can use the power of Nothingness through science so people won't claim is to be magic and all. Thank you BlackChain14 for inspiring the explanations I'll give in the future. **

**Any questions? Hope you all review though! **

**Really, I like reviews.**

**Stay gold!**


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